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The Scroll
Russel's yacht was a bright red colour, in contrast to the other white boats in the dock. He had been maintaining it for fifteen years now - the red covered up the blood spills pretty well. He had a job in the mercenary sector - or rather, used to have - before he joined the Union. Now they were everything to him. Ever since hearing the reports on multiverse technology damaging the fabric of spacetime he had been ever so keen on stopping any instances of it. He regretted he did not have the skill required to take down the Confederate. Sure, the Union may have a disadvantage in multiverse, but space technology was coming up fast. By 2056 they planned to set up a colony on Mars. His target walked past on the docks, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of cheap sunglasses he probably got in a store for about two dollars. But the budge in the pockets of his khakis was what attracted Russel's attention. His mission was to kill the target, and retreive the object. He didn't know what it was, only that he had to take it. The target was Derek Jaust. It wasn't a particularly well-known name, but it did strike fear into the hearts of the Unionist leaders when they discovered he had stolen an artifact from them. Jaust was rumoured to be able to overcome any opponent and complete any set of given tasks, no matter how risky it was. The only things that exceeded his quota were the total destruction of the Union or Confederates. It wasn't Jaust who conducted the diamond monopoly a decade earlier, but he certainly profited from it. His yacht was plated with inches-thick tungsten which not only stopped all firearms, but also reflected any type of energy weapon. It was a basically a floating fortress. So it had to happen before he could get on the boat. Russel raised the crossbow and peered through the scope. It was a suitable weapon - silent, deadly, with the disadvantage of being hard to conceal. He also had men on Jaust's boat, if it came to the fact that he missed and the target escaped. His finger tightened on the trigger. A little more and the bolt would go hurling towards his target, through his temple and possibly out the other side. Though it was more likely to be lodged halfway through his brain. The finger itched. Russel desperately wanted to do it now. Nothing is stopping me, he thought. He pulled the trigger. Everything went as planned. It was dark, and nobody saw the man topple into the water. He placed the crossbow back in its case and closed it. It was done. Now all he had to do was get the item. The muzzle of a pistol was pressed into the nape of his neck. A cold dread spread through Russel, realising that his superior's warnings had been correct all along. "You think I was that stupid?" Russel looked around and saw Jaust holding a pulse pistol in the moonlight. "Kill me." "With pleasure." Crack. Jaust took the papyrus scroll from under his waterproof coat. He wondered how much it was worth to the Union. Maybe he could sell it back? No. His bosses wanted it for a very specific reason. But then again he didn't know the reason. He was a puppet. And the UCF made him dance.